"I send flowers to you, but you are still not willing?" Yang Ming sat up lazily and took the bunch of flowers.
"Was it you who sent it?" Wang Xiaoyan grinned. "Didn't you say that it was the flower company who was mistaken?"
"Hehe. Why? Are you jealous?" Yang Ming looked at Wang Xiaoyan and teased her.
"Who is jealous?" Wang Xiaoyan looked askance at Yang Ming and said, "Who values your flowers?"
Although Wang Xiaoyan's previous impression of Yang Ming was not good, now, the two of them had begun a relationship as lovers. Even if there were no feelings between them, Wang Xiaoyan hoped that Yang Ming could occasionally express it. After all, she was also a woman, and also had a little bit of vanity.
What's more, Wang Xiaoyan knew that in her life, it was impossible to have any love. Whether love was for an assassin or a victim of family interest, it seemed too extravagant.
